


My Sword, My Strength

by Papillonae



Series: LietPol Week (2018) [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Banter, Duelling, F/F, Fighting in a Dress, Girls With Swords, Swordfighting, Swords, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillonae/pseuds/Papillonae
Summary: Poland has been fighting on her own for the longest time, relying only on the strength of her own sword, until she agrees to an alliance with Lithuania, who is in a similar situation. After months of working up the nerve, Poland finally talks to her... and also challenges her to see if she is a worthy ally.Written for LietPol Week 2018, Day 2 - "Sword" prompt.





	My Sword, My Strength

_Poland had mostly been fighting against her enemies alone. For the longest time, it felt as though parts of herself were widely disconnected from others – a long-term push and pull that seemed so deep and poignant. She had been trying to pull herself together, and some years she fared better than others. It wasn’t until she had first been baptized that she’d first felt the unsteadiness in her legs, and with the Teutonic Order also knocking on her doorstep, she needed to find something reliable._

_Naturally, it was the sword that steadied her trembling hand._

_At first, it was a simple admiration of blacksmithing and craftsmanship. But the weight of the sword in her hand – even of just an ordinary blade – gave her a sudden burst of confidence._

_She’d learned how to wield it from her people during the cool summer mornings. It was then that she first cut her hair, wore the thickest doublet she could find, and disguised herself. She was taken for a squire and sworn in by the consecrated sword. It took a long time for her to learn even the basics of combat, but she managed to master the seven points of agility through sheer stubbornness._

_And still - though her armor, arrows, quivers, and long arms rounded out her armory - it was the sword she favored, time and time again._

_These days, she appeared as a gentle young woman – especially when she made her official appearances in traditional folk dress and regal gowns that accentuated her womanhood – but one look into the untamed fire behind Poland’s fern-colored eyes revealed that she was anything but delicate._

* * *

 

It had only been a handful of months since Poland and her sovereign had welcomed Lithuania and the Grand Duke into their courts. During that time, she began busying herself with planning routes through the palace to avoid accidentally running into Lithuania… and planning rehearsed responses for when she couldn’t avoid her at all.

Admittedly, Poland spent a majority of that time peering around the corners of corridors, just to get a glimpse into Lithuania’s private life so she might have an edge in casual conversation - at least, as casual as she could manage before saying something as awkward as the things she’d blurted out when Lithuania first came requesting an audience with her.

Secretly, Poland was incredibly fascinated by her – everything from the wild length of her dark brown hair to the practiced care for her appearance. She was hopelessly curious about this new convert; particularly by the way she had held her own against the crusades and the Teutonic Order’s relentless badgering. Just how did Lithuania, who seemed much more reserved and meek, manage to keep herself so well guarded?

Lithuania was still adjusting to her new surroundings, and because the palace grounds were so expansive, Poland would catch sight of her in a new place each and every day. However, there was one place she frequented the most out of all the other halls and areas within the palace gates: the courtyard.

For several weeks now, Poland had been observing her there – she even went so far as to instruct her attendants to not only bring Lithuania her own personal arsenal of swords, but to bring the swords from the Polish armory to her as well – Poland's own personal collection. Lithuania would always decline to use them, but they were always left for her in case she changed her mind.

From what Poland could tell, Lithuania liked to come to the courtyard during the early hours of the morning to train her body for battle: first, with solidifying her form, her dominant hand gripping the hilt of her sword as she raised the other behind her; her feet grounded and knees bent, ready to lunge and retreat at a moment’s notice. Then she would practice as if she were in actual combat, with several reps of downward and horizontal slashes at the air, each one prefaced with a short cry of effort as she turned and twisted her body toward invisible targets. 

Often, Poland would find herself fixated on the glitter of Lithuania’s own swords in the sunlight. As she presently watched her from behind a column just outside the palace doors – the closest she had come to observe Lithuania’s training – she was now able to place the sword. Over the years, she had become a connoisseur of blades. She looked upon the circular pommel, the curved cross-guard, and the lengthy blade and realized that there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary about it.

 _Practical_ , she observed, _and gets the job done_.

And now that she was this close, Poland began to notice more beyond Lithuania’s very practical sword: there was the way Lithuania’s thickly braided hair whipped so suddenly as she turned to attack an invisible foe; the authority in her voice as her sword arm came decisively down through the air; the sheen of sweat that glistened right at the top of her forehead, the way her breeches clung tightly to the curve of her legs…

Poland immediately averted her eyes as an overwhelming heat consumed her body – why was she staring so hard _there_???

She bit her lip and looked around to make sure no one saw her spying. Lithuania was very athletic... it was only natural to admire someone like that, even if you stared in weird places… right?

Slowly, she dared to let her gaze wander back to Lithuania’s legs again. Her breathing hitched only slightly the longer she let her sights linger, traveling up around her hips, to the dip in her waist, and all the way to her bare arms – strong and precise – where she had rolled up the sleeves of a loose blouse, slightly untucked from her movements.

Poland swallowed hard. Well, she had avoided her long enough…

“Your form is impressive,” she announced as coolly as possible. She walked out from behind the pillar, her fingertips gently tracing over the cracks. Her other hand hitched her skirt a little off her feet as she carefully walked out to meet Lithuania on the grass.

Lithuania didn’t seem too startled – perhaps, just a little surprised. She lowered her sword arm and used the back of her free hand to wipe the sweat from her brow.

“Thank you.” 

Poland turned her attention toward the small rack of her own arsenal of swords that had been brought out to the courtyard; she was still inwardly delighted to find that her attendants left Lithuania the option of using them, even if she was still using her own blades.

“You really know your way around a sword,” she said with high esteem, arching an eyebrow in her direction as she gathered her skirt a little more.

Lithuania smiled one of the first casual smiles Poland had seen her wear, and sheathed the sword currently in her hand. “Well, when one has enemies all around, one does what one must to protect her people. Surely you understand.”

“I do.” Poland was now perusing the selection of her own swords. Her fingers traced along the pommels of a few. “It’s difficult, defending everyone by yourself.” Her features softened considerably. She allowed herself a gentle smile before looking over her shoulder at Lithuania. The rest of her body followed.

“I’m glad that you sought an alliance with me,” she said decisively. “We won’t have to fight alone anymore.”

With small, careful steps, Lithuania approached her. Her face lit up, and the way her eyes smiled left Poland captivated. “I’m glad we agree! To be honest, I … had hoped we could talk more, just the two of us. It’s been difficult to find you these past few weeks…”

Poland shrank away from her, reflexively returning a smile. She felt her cheeks flushing. “I’m not good at talking… I really made a mess of things the last time I tried to speak…”

“Think nothing of it,” Lithuania gently assured her, laughing softly, “we were both doing our best to impress our advisors. But it’s just us here. You can speak freely around me, if it suits you...” she began to laugh again, her eyebrows creasing inward, “though… it feels as though _you_ should be telling _me_ that, since I am your guest here… oh, now here I am, babbling on and on…”

Poland laughed with her, a hand modestly hiding her mouth. “It’s quite alright, Lithuania! You were there when I told you to take off your clothes before your own Grand Duke, were you not?”

As the two of them shared laughter at their own expense, Poland saw that there was something absolutely sincere in Lithuania’s eyes; she dug up the thought of how brilliantly green they were in the morning sunrise, the color of moss on the forest’s trees. Her own gaze finally wandered back down to her fingers, which still lingered along the almond-shaped pommel of her most reliable sword. “Well, if it’s not too much trouble,” she began, “I do have one request.”

“Yes?” Lithuania asked, looking upon her companion with curiosity and surprise as Poland finally took the sword by the hilt and pulled it out of the rack. She took time to observe the blade of the weapon, turned it in her hand, and when she was satisfied, she brought it down to her side with a deliberate swish. She met Lithuania’s gaze with a smirk that issued a challenge.

“A duel… I would like to have a duel with you.”

Lithuania’s eyes widened incredulously. “ _What_?”

“I mean, we _could_ talk about how we’re going to fight together, but how can we really do that if we’re not familiar with our approaches to combat?” Poland raised her chin up a little as she gauged Lithuania’s reaction. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to know what kind of ally I’ve just gained. And what type of blade she prefers.”

Lithuania didn’t respond at first. She still appeared to be in a state of shock. Poland’s smile faltered only a little. Somehow, that face of hers… there was something about it that somehow made her want to start laughing… 

Finally, Lithuania found her answer. “Right. I accept…” Her voice trailed off, as if she had something else to add.

“…What’s wrong?” Poland prompted, trying to draw out the rest of her answer.

“Are you… do you intend to duel in _that_?” Lithuania asked, gesturing toward her outfit.

Poland had arrived in the courtyard in a rose-colored skirt, a dark-colored vest, and a white blouse with long, billowing sleeves. She spared a moment to look down at her skirt, even to turn and get a better look at it, before she looked back up at Lithuania.

“…Are you suggesting that swords can’t be wielded by women in skirts?” Poland asked, her expression darkening a little.

Lithuania, having noticed the edge in her tone, backed off considerably. “No! No, o-of course not! It’s just… I’ve never seen it done before…”

With a positively devious smile, Poland slowly raised her sword arm, the blade of her weapon pointing directly at Lithuania. “Then allow me to demonstrate. Draw your weapon.”

Lithuania, chasing the doubt away from her face, complied with her request.

They allowed themselves time to get into their formations.

“Ready?” Poland asked.

“I’m ready.”

“Then the first strike is mine.”

 

Poland lunged forward; her feet agile with nervous energy. Though it was a strong strike, Lithuania was simply parrying her blade and dodging every outside swipe.

 _At least she’s on the defensive_ , Poland thought to herself, as she made quick work of countering any of Lithuania’s moves to the offensive. While she had the advantage, Poland thought to strike a conversation:

“So is this the type of sword you would prefer to carry into combat?”

Lithuania seemed taken back. “Do you always talk to your opponents when you fight?” she asked.

She thrusted with her sword, only to have it parried.

Poland smirked, winking in her direction. “Only the mysterious ones.”

Another clash of steel, and Lithuania was quickly losing her footing.

She suddenly looked a little more competitive; her features hardened as she charged back against Poland’s offense.

“If you _must_ know -” she replied, “I prefer something more _knightly_ in nature.”

Poland shuffled backward in her step, now on the defensive.

“An old soul!” she laughed, her gaze never leaving Lithuania’s. “Tell me – what do you think of my reserve here?”

Lithuania smirked. “I wouldn’t have guessed that they were your private collection,” she admitted, “but I’m pleasantly surprised with them.”

 _Finally! An opening!_  Poland sprang ahead, only for Lithuania to pivot away just in time. Moments later, she felt the blunt side of a blade pressing in between her shoulder blades.

Lithuania was the victor.

 

“You were hasty,” she stated, a little out of breath. 

Poland relaxed as the blade was taken from her back. She turned to Lithuania and laughed, rolling out her shoulders. She hadn’t had this much exercise since her squire days.

“Hasty? I haven’t even gotten started!” She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “For instance, how do you feel about longswords?”

“Are we _still_ on about swords?” Lithuania asked, laughing good-naturedly.

“It’s a serious question!”

Lithuania thought about it, then replied, “I don’t think I would want to use a two-handed weapon when you have to make so many fast decisions on the battlefield… but I’m not against learning how to wield one.”

Poland nodded, catching her breath. “Interesting…” she raised her sword once again. “Another round?” she asked.

When Lithuania nodded, the smile on her face returned. “Good. Because I’m not leaving until I’ve bested you.”

“You’re always welcome to try.” Lithuania was grinning, now definitely caught up in the same energy Poland was. “Does this mean the first strike is mine?”

“If you’re feeling brave, it is,” Poland quipped back.

“Right. Prepare yourself.”

 

Once the two had righted themselves back into position, Lithuania charged toward Poland with a startling battle cry. It nearly caught Poland off guard, but she barely managed to parry the first strike.

Lithuania was _tough_. No wonder the Teutonic Order had trouble with her. 

“Who taught you to use a sword?” she asked as Lithuania rained more and more strikes down on her blade.

Lithuania pressed into her defense. “My people did. Am I to assume your people taught you, too?”

Poland pushed against her, summoning all her strength as she struggled forward. “Yes! Though I must ask – did you disguise yourself to train with them?” 

“Yes.” Lithuania grounded herself. “I wore a helmet and wore my hair like this.”

“I cut mine,” Poland explained, still pushing steadily against her, “and from there I learned everything I could about the sword.”

Lithuania gritted her teeth, feeling herself sliding backwards. “For a woman… you sure love talking about swords…”

It was an innocent comment, but when Lithuania caught Poland’s stare, she saw something ignite. Her face paled.

“Where my words fail, my sword _speaks_.” 

Poland finally pushed through with a rough downward swipe and she backed away from Lithuania with a twirling flourish. Her skirt clung at her thighs and fanned out at her calves gracefully. Lithuania saw it all in slow motion and nearly forgot to react.

With her feet twisting her still, Poland doubled back and met blades with Lithuania again – and again – and _again_.

Lithuania was backing away from her relentless onslaught, her sword acting as her only shield. She would have tried to counter, but Poland was fast – _impossibly fast_.

Only the cool touch of the pillar stopped her backward movement. She squeezed her eyes shut as Poland closed the distance –

 

She nearly forgot to breathe.

Poland had stopped the blade just before it pierced through Lithuania’s side. Their faces were mere inches apart, the two of them panting, chests heaving, their faces prickling and hot with exertion. Poland took in the sight of Lithuania pressed against the column – practically against her own _person_ – and the way loose strands of her hair clung in loops on the sweat of her forehead. There was apprehension in Lithuania’s eyes, and a slow, but cautious laugh caught in her throat.

“Does – does that clear things up?” Poland asked, out of breath, and chuckling softly as their breaths mingled between.

“— Transparently so,” Lithuania breathed. 

Poland grinned and pushed herself away from the pillar, giving Lithuania more of a chance to breathe. “I’m glad we had this chance to talk,” she said, swallowing at the dryness of her throat, “now I know a little more about what arms you prefer.”

“Likewise.”

As Poland slipped her sword back among the rest of her arsenal, Lithuania sheathed her own sword. “It is a relief to know that I keep the company of someone who is so knowledgeable about combat.”

When she had finally caught her breath, Poland wiped at the sweat along her hairline. “You know, Lithuania,” she began, side-eyeing her, “if you ever wanted to... test your endurance again... I would be happy to be your partner…”

Poland watched with great amusement as Lithuania bristled a little, her eyes growing wide and her lips winding in a crooked way. Though the two of them were still flushed from battle, Poland almost could have sworn her face turned three shades darker.

“Rrr... _Right!_ For sparring! O-of course!” Lithuania stammered.

“Of course,” Poland repeated softly, a coy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a spring in her step, she turned to head back into the palace. “Then I look forward to our next talk. Bring your sword.”

“Yes! I-I look forward to it! Good day, Poland!”

“Good day, Lithuania.”

 

Once Poland had successfully carried herself back behind the large doors of the palace, she immediately lost the strength in her legs and slumped to the floor. Her knees buckled together and she hid her face – now the same shade of beet red as Lithuania’s had been earlier – deep into the palms of her hands.

 _I said something weird to Lithuania again!!_ She tossed herself about at the memory of her most recent line.

But after seeing first-hand how powerful Lithuania’s sword hand was… how practical and reliable her technique had been… even right down to her preference for a weapon that protects… Poland felt a little more at ease. She smiled secretly to herself. Perhaps she’d found yet another sword to steady herself with. Perhaps, maybe this would be the one that could hold her steady for years – maybe longer.

_“I would be happy to be your partner...”_

A weird thing to say, but the more she thought on it, the more Poland realized there wasn’t a single trace of regret in those words.


End file.
